To Marry A Stranger
by witch-RN
Summary: Shy Lily Evans, took drastic measures to find herself a man. She slept in the supposedly enchanted Potter Mansion. There, she encounters a reclusive stranger named James Pottera man with scars on body and soul.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am only borrowing the characters.**

**Author's Notes: This fic is based on a romance novel written by a very talented person named Renee Roszel.**

**This is an AU, No Magic and Petunia is nice in this.**

_**The Myth.**_

_The stately Potter mansion stands majestically in the countryside, its absentee owner rumored to be living in Europe. Closed for years this mansion has a charming myth surrounding it. Legend says that the mansion is enchanted and that 'an unmarried woman who sleeps within its walls on her birthday, when the moon is full, will marry the first man she sees in the morning.'_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: same as prologue. I will not be repeating this in any of the future chapter.

A/N: this is an A. No Magic and Petunia is nice in this fic.

**Chapter One.**

Lily woke with a start. Unfamiliar blackness enveloped her' and she flung up her hand, protectively. Where was she? Groggy, she rubbed her eyes trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep from her mind.

She heard an ominous wail, leaped off the couch, lurching forward. Pain in her shin made her stumble sideways. Flailing to keep her balance, she hit something with her hand. Whatever it was, it crashed to the floor, the noise as loud as a thunderclap.

Panicking, Lily grew fully awake recalling where she was, and why. At this instant, in the pitch-dark, with wild beasts shrieking in the distance, she had an uneasy feeling that her idea to come here hadn't been very wise. She heard the cry of a wounded beast again—or was it a groan on warped floorboards? Either way something, or someone, was coming. How could that be? The mansion had been empty and locked up for years. Nobody was supposed to be here.

Her eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness, and she could distinguish shapes. She was in a paneled den, the furnishings covered in white making the place appear to be teemed with ghosts. She had removed the dust cover from the velvet sofa where she had fallen asleep, but was too frightened to replace it. After all which was more important, her life or a little dust on the couch? the window she had slipped through was on the far side of the musty room. As she took a step forward it, she thought she saw a shadow pass through the room's entrance. She spun in the direction, but could see nothing but a shrouded chair. Swallowing the lump of terror in her throat, she decided she must have been wrong, for there hadn't been any sound. Or had there? Unfortunately, she couldn't be sure, since her ears were roaring with the rush of blood from her pounding heart.

Still, not long ago, she had heard movement. Someone, or something was prowling the mansion and she did not intend to wait around to see what it was. Her nerve gone, she scrambled around the coffee table, leaping over the lamp she'd knocked to the floor. As she scurried towards her escape, she berated herself for her cowardice. For once in her life she had taken her destiny in her own hands, and now, with her objective in sight, she was chickening out.

The faint moonlight that seeped between the drawn curtains was her beacon, and she ran around a massive desk to reach it. She grabbed the curtain to move it aside, but as her hand touched the brocade she was captured in a hard grasp, and yelped in shock. She found herself spun around to face---what? Before her, vague in the blackness, loomed a dusky phantom. She struggled in alarm, but was held fast. "Please…….. _Please_" her fragile plea faded, her voice failing. Shuddering with dread she shrank as far away as she could, though her wrist was caught in firm grip.

"What the hell are you doing? The apparition growled

"I…I…" nothing more could come out, for her thumping heart blocked her throat. Terror-stricken she could only gape, fearing for her life. The massive specter was obscured in shadow, but lily thought she could see a fall of ebony hair masking part of an angular face. She had the impression of a piercing gaze and a forbidding frown. Yet, more important than she could visibly identify, she sensed great power in her captor, and even greater anger.

Just when she thought she would faint from fright, her assailant let her go. "Get out!" the jerk of his head followed his command, releasing her from her terrified paralysis. Not sure how she managed it, lily found herself scrambling through the window onto the dewy grass outside. As she stumbled and ran toward the nearby wood, she was grateful she did not have a heart attack on the wood-infested lawn. No one would have found her for a week.

The woodland path was bright lit by the light of the full moon. Once over her initial shock and fear, she slowed her breakneck speed, then stopped, anger swelling inside her. She sagged against a wizened oak, kicking at it with her sandal. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she muttered. "Lily, you are the world's prize idiot!" pressing her cheek against the tree, she picked at the rough bark. Her legs were shaky, so she took deep breaths to restore herself.

She supposed if she had to be brutally honest with herself she would admit she had let her life's goal muddle her mind. Far as long as she could remember she had wanted a nice man to love her and a bi8g, loud, happy family. A whole family. Today was her twenty first birthday. By her age many women already had husbands and children. Living in the country lily did not get –even fewer who might be attracted to plain, shy young women like her. So she had reasoned, since husband prospects were few and far between, she would take fate in her own hands! The Potter myth was perfect for her objective. Having a husband would prove she was all grownup—even in the eyes of her on sisters who still saw her as a child. Still she now realized that her actions had been recklessly immature. This had to have been the most childish stunt she had ever pulled.

Down heartened, she straightened, gulped air for strength, and headed home. as she walked she renewed her walk that her sisters would never know where she'd been tonight. when she reached the gate of the Victorian inn she and her sisters were renovating, she made a second vow. She would never ever go near the Potter Mansion again. inside its imposing flagstone walls lurked either a felon hiding from the law, a demented fiend-- or the devil, himself

_She'd been lucky to escape with her life._


End file.
